I Will Sing
by James8
Summary: A Minstrel in Elrond's house learned to honor warriors long ago.
1. Disclaimer

Disclaimer: They are not mine. Tolkien's yes.  
  
Another for Dragon's Flufflings website. It goes with a little Lindir and our much loved Glorfindel.   
  
Enjoy  
  
James 


	2. I Will Sing

I Will Sing  
  
"Lindir, come back here!"  
  
The little dark-haired elfling glanced back at his mother as he made his way through the crowded streets. Today Gondolin was in celebration. "But, Nana, the warriors are here!"  
  
With that remark the little elfling disappeared around the corner into the throng. His mother sighed before racing after him. "Lindir!"  
  
Lindir ducked around several elves as he tried to look out onto the crowded street. He tripped in his excitement, fell and rolled against someone's legs. He looked up slightly dazed to find a golden-haired elf leaning over him.  
  
"Are you all right, aier?" The elf asked as he reached down to help the elfling to his feet.  
  
Another male elf rode up, looking over the situation, his amusement evident. "I thought it was only elf-maidens you had to worry about, Glorfindel."   
  
Glorfindel chuckled. "Go soak your head, Norlan."  
  
The other elf rode away, laughing.  
  
Lindir looked in shock at the elf before him. This was Glorfindel! The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower! This elf's prowess in battle was renowned. He was what every elfling wished to be. And he had tumbled into him! Lindir felt heat suffuse his face.  
  
Glorfindel knelt worriedly in front of the child. The elfling hadn't spoken and now his face was flushed with warmth. Maybe the child was hurt. "Aier? Are you all right?"  
  
"Lindir, there you are!"  
  
Glorfindel looked up to see a raven-haired elf-woman rushing towards them, worry written on her face. The child practically leapt into her arms, burying his face into her neck. "He fell," Glorfindel explained. "I do not think he is well."   
  
The woman nodded, crooning softly to the child. Glorfindel stayed, unwilling to leave until he knew the child was all right. He knew little of children, never having really been around them, but couldn't in good conscience leave, until he was sure.  
  
Finally the elf-woman moved the little one away. "Lindir, look at me, love. Are you hurt?"  
  
Lindir shook his head, sneaking a shy glance at Glorfindel. "I tripped. I did not mean to fall into Glorfindel."  
  
"I am sure Glorfindel is angry at you," his mother murmured reassuringly.  
  
Glorfindel caught the look she sent him. "No, aier. I am glad you are unharmed."  
  
The child sent him a timid smile and Glorfindel felt his heart melt towards the elfling. The child stiffened suddenly, his eyes full of worry as he turned towards his mother. "Nana, what will my friends say?"   
  
Glorfindel listened as the mother tried to reassure the elfling, an idea forming in his head. "Your husband is a minstrel in the palace, is he not?"  
  
The woman nodded.  
  
Glorfindel turned to the child. "What would your friends say, if you and your mother were to ride with me to the palace?"  
  
Lindir's eyes sparkled with delight. "Really?"  
  
Glorfindel nodded.  
  
The elfling squealed with joy, jumping up and down in excitement.   
  
"I will take that as a yes," Glorfindel remarked dryly.  
  
"My Lord, I would not presume to impose such a duty on you," said Lindir's mother quietly.  
  
"It is not an inconvenience." Glorfindel assured. He gave a sharp whistle and a large black stallion approached the group. "This is Mornhwest. He will carry you."  
  
The horse snorted. The sound was definitely a negative answer as it eyed the elfling and his mother.  
  
The woman laughed softly. "I do not think he wishes to, my Lord. He is a war horse, after all."  
  
Glorfindel glared at his horse. "I will trade you in for a pony Morn."  
  
The stallion stamped a hoof against the cobblestone.  
  
"It's all right," Lindir replied softly. "He doesn't have to."  
  
Glorfindel glared at his mount.  
  
Lindir reached into his pocket pulling out a cloth filled with dried apple chips. He poured some into his palm, stretching them out under the horse's muzzle. "Here. Thank you anyhow."  
  
The stallion seemed to waver, before lowering his head in defeat, as he carefully lipped up the apple pieces. Mornhwest shook his head before bending his forelegs and lowering himself to his knees.  
  
"Can't resist him either, eh, friend?" Glorfindel murmured in the horse's ear. He helped the woman up on the horse's back, then put the child in front of her. The stallion carefully rose to his feet, and with Glorfindel walking beside the horse's shoulder, they all headed towards the palace.  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
Lindir watched, clutching his mother's skirts as funeral preparations were made for the Lord Glorfindel.  
  
Gondolin had fallen.  
  
All that remained were the refugees that had fled from the city, protected by the Lord Glorfindel and a handful of other warriors. Glorfindel had fought the Balrog and killed the beast, but fallen himself. Thorondor, the Lord of the Eagles, had brought the elf's body up from the abyss to give him an honorable burial.  
  
Idril began to sing of the battle, honoring Glorfindel and all those that also had died so bravely. Other voices soon joined hers, filling the tiny glade with a bittersweet lament.   
  
Beside his parents, Lindir struggled with the words as he too joined in.  
  
Finally the song ended. His Naneth knelt down, wrapping him in her warm embrace. "One day, Nana," Lindir whispered softly, "I will sing songs of bravery."  
  
Translations:  
  
Aier means 'little one'  
  
Naneth or Nana means 'Mother' or 'Mommy'  
  
Mornhwest means 'Black Breeze' 


End file.
